Opera libretti translated for modern audiences: now with 50% more dick jokes!

Monday, February 4, 2013

Les Misérables, Part I

[Note: For anyone who's wondering, this is the synopsis of the stage version and not the movie. Also, don't bother complaining that this is a musical and not an opera, because a precedent for this sort of thing has already been set.]

Me:
Though it does raise the question of why no one has turned The Count
of Monte Cristo into an opera yet.

Philip
Glass:
I'll do it!

Me:
No
one's talking to you.

Philip
Glass: :(

Schönberg:
WOULD EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP SO WE CAN GET ON WITH THE SHOW

Everyone:
Fiiiiiine.

[Enter
Inspector Javert, an eternally grumpy policeman who sees the world in
black-and-white terms and says stupid shit like “I am the law.”
Come to think of it, he's pretty much the Judge Dredd of 19th
century France.]

Half
of my Readers: Either
that or Judge Dredd is the Javert of the future.

Javert:
YOU'RE NOT FREE YOU'RE STILL ON PAROLE AND STUFF SO YOU MUST ALWAYS
WEAR THIS SIGN THAT SAYS “I AM AN EVIL EX-CONVICT”

Valjean:
That's
stupid and so are you. I only stole a loaf of bread to feed my
sister's family.

Javert:
THAT
MAKES YOU A THIEF AND THIEVES ARE SERVANTS OF THE DEVIL

Valjean:
What about Robin Hood? He stole shit all the time, and I'm pretty
sure no one thinks he
was a servant of the devil.

Javert:
He was English. That's even worse.

Valjean:
Whatever. Nineteen years of hard labor seems like an excessive
punishment for a single loaf of bread.

Javert:
Hey, now. It was just gonna be five
years, but then you tried to run away like a total pussy a bunch of
times. You brought the other fourteen years on yourself, 24601.

Valjean:[à
la 007]
The name's Jean. Valjean.

Javert:
Yeah, I don't care. Just make sure you remember my
name, because in the event that you do something stupid – like,
say, breaking your parole and assuming a new identity – I will
pretty much shirk all of my other responsibilities and hunt you even
to the ends of the earth.

Valjean:
That sounds like a waste of time and effort.

Javert:
Yeah well I AM THE LAAAAAW

Valjean:
Oookay. You have fun with that.

[He
leaves.]

The
Prisoners: LOOK
UP, LOOK UP

THE
SCENE'S ABOUT TO CHANGE

LOOK
UP, LOOK UP

CHECK
OUT OUR TURNING STAGE

The
Audience: whooooaaaaa

[Valjean
walks in place while the stage rotates beneath his feet. The moving
set is arguably the most worthwhile part of the show.]

Half
of my Readers: YOU
TAKE THAT BACK

Me:
Look,
I thought this was a really awesome musical back in high school –
but these days, I want to hear more than five constantly recycled
melodies if I'm gonna be sitting in a theater for three hours.

Half
of my Readers: grumble
grumble

Valjean:
It's so great to be free! I feel like I'm walking through a whole new
world and seeing everything from a new fantastic point of view!

Walt
Disney:Hey.
I
will fuck your shit up.

Valjean:
In
any case, I'm completely positive that life is going to be awesome
from this point on!

[Montage
of Valjean's Life Sucking: GO!]

Random
Farmer: I'm
not going to pay you as much as my other day-laborers because you're
a convict and also because fuck you.

Innkeeper:Also
also, we've got no room at the inn for pieces of shit like you.
You'll have to sleep in the stable.

Schönberg:
Christ
metaphor!

The
Audience:
Is that intentional?

Boublil:
I mean, he pretty much dies for everyone's sins at the end of the
show.

Me:
SPOILER ALERT

Boublil:
We
were even gonna change his name to Jesus Valjesus, but we thought
that might be too obvious.

The
Audience:
Because subtlety is totally your strong point.

Schönberg:
We're
glad you noticed!

[But
just when Valjean seems to be on the verge of total despair...]

Valjean:
FUCK MY LIFE AND EVERYONE ELSE TOO

[…
he meets the Bishop of Digne, who is probably the only truly virtuous
member of the clergy in the entire history of French literature.]

The
Bishop: Hello,
Monsieur Complete-Stranger! You look tired and hungry!

Valjean:
You think?

The
Bishop: Come
inside! We've got plenty of food and warm beds in the rectory.

Valjean:
Thanks!
I promise you won't regret this! By the way, do you mind showing me
the exact location of all of your valuables?

The
Bishop:
Sure!

[Valjean
goes inside, where the bishop gives him food and drink. Valjean waits
until the bishop is asleep, and then promptly steals all of the
bishop's shit.]

The
Audience: You're
a douche.

Valjean:
Hey!
I was sentenced to hard labor for nineteen
years of my life,
so excuuuse
me if the experience has left me bitter and broken!

The
Audience: Yeah,
but... stealing from the one person who treats you like a human
being? Not cool, man.

Valjean:
Nineteen
fucking years!

The
Audience: You're
still a douche.

Valjean:
Whatever. I'm gonna go sell this stuff and buy a bunch of cocaine and
hookers.

[He
attempts to run away, but is promptly caught by some police
officers.]

The
Police Officers: What's
in the bag, sir?

Valjean:
DEFINITELY
NOTHING STOLEN

The
Police Officers: You
do realize you just gave us probable cause to search you, right?

Valjean:
Fuuuuuck.

[They
find the stolen silverware and drag him back to the Bishop of Digne.]

The
Police Officers:
We found the guy who stole all your shit, Your Excellency. And he had
the nerve to claim it was a gift from you!

The
Bishop:
It totally was. I gave it to him of my own free will!

The
Audience: Isn't
lying a sin?

The
Bishop: Shut
up. [to
Valjean]
But you were in such a hurry to leave that you forgot to take my
candlesticks! They're hella valuable.

Valjean:
Uh... thanks?

The
Bishop: So
as you can see, officers, there's been no crime committed here. But
thanks for being so vigilant!

[The
police leave.]

Valjean:
…
what just happened?

The
Bishop:
What just happened is I saved your life, so now you owe me. Big
time.

Valjean:
This
isn't going to turn into some weird sex thing, is it?

The
Bishop:Hell
no. Here's the deal: since I pretty much just bankrupted my parish to
help you out – even though you were a complete stranger who fucked
me over and gave me every
reason
not to trust you or give you any sort of aid whatsoever – you're in
some serious karmic debt that can only be repaid by using this money
to become someone who's not
a complete asshole.
Got it?

Valjean:
Wow.
I don't know what to say.

The
Bishop: “Thank
you” would be nice.

Valjean:
I
feel... strange. Like an invisible weight has suddenly been placed on my shoulders.

Valjean:
THAT OLD PRIESTY ASSHOLE DOESN'T KNOW ME OR WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH SO
FUCK HIM but maybe he's right, I mean I was kind of being a dick BUT
THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS AFTER NINETEEN YEARS OF HARD LABOR but he was
really nice to me and maybe I should be nice to other people from now
on too EXCEPT DAMMIT NOW I FEEL ALL ASHAMED AND CATHOLIC AND STUFF
but I guess now that I'm rich I could just create a new identity and
forget that Jean Valjean ever existed!

Victor
Hugo: It's
almost cute how you think that's gonna happen.

[He
tears up the paper identifying him as a criminal. Fast-forward to
1823! Valjean is now the owner of a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mer, as
well as being the fucking mayor
because
he's just that badass. He's not doing a great job at mayoring,
though, because his town is overrun with the worst kind of vermin
imaginable: poor people.]

Poor
People: AT
THE END OF THE DAY YOU'RE ANOTHER DAY OLDER

The
Audience: Yeah,
and every hour makes you another hour older. That's pretty fucking
self-evident.

Poor
People: AT
THE END OF THE NIGHT IT'S THE START OF THE MORNING

The
Audience:
Also self-evident. Any other pearls of wisdom to dispense?

Poor
People:
AT THE END OF A MEAL YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FOOD LEFT

The
Audience: At
the end of the show, we're not going to clap when you bow.

Poor
People: Rude.

The
Audience:
So is there any point to this scene, other than you guys saying a
bunch of obvious shit and trying to make it sound meaningful?

Poor
People: Mostly
we're just around to illustrate the dissatisfaction of the common man
with the state of affairs at this point in French history.

The
Audience:
Hooray.

[The
factory workers enter with their foreman. One of the workers is a
young woman named Fantine – you can recognize her by the aura of
pure, heavenly light which surrounds her at all times.]

The
Foreman: AT
THE END OF THE DAY I WANT SOMEONE TO BONE ME

The
Factory Workers: Man,
wouldn't it be nice if there were laws prohibiting sexual harassment
in the workplace?

The
Foreman:
Quiet! There's no talking in the factory, unless you're being super
bitchy
about one of your co-workers.

Random
Woman:
Maybe the foreman would be in a better mood if Fantine would stop
being such a fucking prude and start putting out.

The
Foreman: Better.

The
Factory Workers:
EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE JOBS WE ARE ALSO DISSATISFIED WITH THE CURRENT
ECONOMIC CLIMATE

Random
Woman:
HEY FANTINE ARE YOU READING A LETTER LET ME SEE

Fantine:
NO

[Random
Woman takes the letter anyway and starts reading it.]

Random
Woman: OH
SHIT FANTINE HAS A BASTARD CHILD

The
Factory Workers: ohhhhh
snap

Random
Woman:
I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE A SLUTTY SLUT SLUT

Fantine:
I'M NOT A SLUT YOU'RE A SLUT SO SHUT UP AND GIVE ME MY LETTER BACK

Random
Woman:
NNNNOPE

[Fantine
bitch-slaps Random Woman. The two of them start fighting. Valjean
enters.]

Valjean:
WHAT
THE HELL IS ALL THIS COMMOTION AND DID I MENTION I'M THE OWNER OF
THIS FACTORY AND ALSO THE MAYOR

The
Factory Workers: We
know who you are, Mayor Definitely-Not-A-Parole-Violator.

Valjean:
It's
pronounced “Violateur.” [to
the foreman]
Sort this mess out, would you? I know you'll handle the matter with
fairness and discretion, because I'm an excellent judge of character
when it comes to the people I employ.

The
Foreman: Oh,
totally.

[Valjean
leaves.]

The
Foreman: Sooo...
what happened here?

Random
Woman: [pointing
to Fantine]
She hit me in the face and also she has a secret love-child that
she's sending money to!

The
Foreman: You
have a child out of wedlock, but you haven't yielded to my gross
sexual advances?

Fantine:
It's
because I have this thing called “self-respect.”

The
Foreman: That's
awesome. You'll have to tell me all about that some other time
because YOU'RE FIRED.

Fantine:
Wait,
what? What happened to fairness and discretion?

The
Foreman: [shrug]
Meh.

Fantine:
Well,
fine! You can take my job, but you'll never be able to take away my
dignity!

[Two
minutes later:]

Fantine
the Prostitute:
WHO WANTS TO HAVE SEX WITH ME FOR MONEY

[But
some other stuff happens first.]

Fantine:
I
had this really weird dream last night, you guys.

The
Audience: Really?
Do tell.

Fantine:
Yeah,
it was mostly about my life being awesome and not even remotely
terrible and meeting my true love and getting married and having
babies and being together forever. But then a bunch of tigers showed
up and they started eating me and destroying my life and I'm pretty
sure they were just some sort of bizarre metaphor for my baby-daddy.

The
Audience: …
huh.

Fantine:
Oh,
and by the way, I've decided to give in to crushing despair.

The
Audience: Sounds
like a plan!

[She
wanders down to the docks, which are littered with whores and horny
sailors.]

The
Whores: LOVELY
LADIES, WAITING FOR A BITE

The
Sailors: …
your use of the word “bite” doesn't exactly inspire confidence in
the quality of your blowjobs.

The
Whores: It's
a figure of speech. Most of us don't even have any teeth to speak of.

The
Sailors: Confidence
re-inspired!

Fantine:
Anyone
want to buy a locket?

Some
Old Woman: Sure!

Fantine:
Aaaand
now I have nothing else to sell.

A
Different Old Woman: I'll
pay you for your pretty hair!

Fantine:
That's
creepy and so are you.

A
Different Old Woman: Ten
francs.

Fantine:
LET'S
GO GET SOME SCISSORS

[Fantine
and the old woman exit.]

The
Whores: HEY
SISTER, GO SISTER

SOUL
SISTER, FLOW SISTER

[Fantine
re-enters, minus her hair.]

A
Pimp:
Hey, who's that?

A
Whore:
Oh, no one. Just some random woman who's desperate to earn enough
money to keep her daughter alive.

A
Pimp: …
desperate, eh?

The
Whores: HEY
THIS IS A REALLY EASY WAY TO MAKE SOME MONEY

Fantine:
Sign
me up!

[And
so Fantine becomes a prostitute.]

The
Whores: HEY
SISTER, SOUL SISTER

BETTER
GET THAT DOUGH, SISTER

Fantine:
You
know, this isn't actually that bad. Well, except for the whole “being
dead on the inside” part.

[A
fancy gentleman by the name of Bamatabois shows up, looking for a
little action.]

Bamatabois:
Hey,
I don't recognize you. How much?

Fantine:
Not
interested. You look like a douche.

Bamatabois:
What
the – THAT'S NOT HOW THIS IS SUPPOSED TO WORK YOU LITTLE SLUT

Fantine:
FUCK
OFF

[She
bitch-slaps him, because that's apparently how she deals with all of
her problems.]

Bamatabois:
Inspector!
I was just minding my own business when this crazy whore attacked me
for no reason!

Javert:
Hmm...
you appear to have money, so it's clear that you're a virtuous man
and that I can trust you to tell the truth.

Bamatabois:
Totally.

[A
crowd begins to gather and watch the drama unfold. ]

Javert:
Officers!
Place this woman under arrest at once!

Fantine:
PLEASE
DON'T ARREST ME I HAVE A DAUGHTER AND SHE'LL DIE WITHOUT ME

Javert:
Save
your stories, foul temptress; I've heard them all before. “I have a
daughter!” “I only stole that bread to feed my sister's family!”
“I was framed!” “You just knowingly destroyed the one piece of
evidence that could prove my innocence!”

The
Audience: …
wait, seriously?

Javert:
Long
story short – I can't trust anything you say because you're a
criminal, and I can tell
you're a criminal because you're dressed in rags and you have the
haircut of a depraved lesbian.

[Valjean
hulks out and lifts the cart, freeing the man trapped underneath.]

Fauchelevant:
THANK
YOU FOR SAVING ME YOU'RE LIKE SOME SORT OF CHRIST FIGURE OR SOMETHING

Valjean:
I
do my best.

The
Crowd: YAAAAY
WE HAVE THE COOLEST MAYOR EVER

Javert:
You know, Monsieur Definitely-Not-A-Parole-Violateur, your display of
freakish strength reminds me of a man that I once swore to hunt to
the ends of the earth.

Valjean:
Even
though this man of whom you speak sounds pretty badass and also very
handsome, I'm not sure I like what you're implying.

Javert:
My
apologies, monsieur. The only other person I've seen do something
like that is a man named Jean Valjean, but you can't
be him because we just found and arrested him!

Valjean: Wait, you did whatnow?

Javert: We caught Jean Valjean! He's going to spend the rest of his miserable life back in the chain
gang.

Valjean:
I'm
just gonna go out on a limb and guess that he's denying
everything...?

Javert:
Yeah,
but criminals do that. Anywho, have fun with that whore you rescued!
I'm just going to go condemn this guy to a life of slavery and
back-breaking labor. Hey, wouldn't it be awkward if we had the wrong
guy for some reason? I bet the real Valjean would feel super
guilty
about letting an innocent man take his place.

Valjean:
Yeah,
that sounds like it would be totally terrible for that “Valjean”
guy I've never met and know nothing about.

Javert:
I'm
sure his conscience would torture him for the rest of his life. It
might even be worse than the chain gang.

Valjean:
On
the one hand, I could let a complete stranger be convicted and
punished for my crimes and I'd never have to be afraid of being
caught ever again – but I'd have to live with the knowledge that I
sent an innocent man to his death. One the other hand, I could
abandon my workers and my constituents, all of whom rely on me in one
way or another, and confess that I'm Jean Valjean – but at least I
wouldn't be screwing anyone over. Well, except for all those people
that I'd leave unemployed, but fuck
those guys. They're not even named characters!

The
Audience: Your
moral logic is impeccable.

Valjean:
All
that matters is that I take care of Fantine, because she's a
beautiful, unique snowflake and this show's representation of
everything pure and good in the world! Which I guess is kinda weird,
considering that she's a prostitute with a bastard child who
frequently resorts to violence to solve her problems.

The
Audience: YOU
SHUT UP FANTINE IS PERFECT

Valjean:
Long
story short – even if it royally fucks my life up, I can't just let
some other guy take my punishment.

[And
suddenly he's in court, because that makes sense.]

Valjean:
Who
am I? I'M TWO-FOUR-SIX-OH-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE

[He
tears open his shirt, partly to show off his sweet prison tats, but
mostly because he has PECS OF STEEL.]

Everybody:
OH
SHIT

[And
then Valjean runs away before anyone can arrest him. The scene
changes to a hospital, where Fantine is dying because reasons.]

Fantine:
cough
cough I'm so sick y'all

The
Audience: Apparently.

Fantine:
[hallucinating]
COSETTE
IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO GO TO BED AND ALSO I'M DYING AND STUFF

[Valjean
enters.]

Valjean:
How
are you feeling?

Fantine:
Look
at all the lonely people!

Valjean:
What?

Fantine:
Where
do they all come from? Where do
they all belong?

Valjean:
Ooookay.
You're clearly feverish and crazy.

Fantine:
a
blee blee bloo blah

Valjean:
Hush,
my darling prostitute. Sleep the sweet sleep of death.

Fantine:
WAIT
WHAT ABOUT COSETTE

Valjean:
I'll
adopt her and raise her as my own daughter!

Fantine:
yaaaaaay

Valjean:
And
I promise to be an overbearing and unnecessarily protective father!

Fantine:
booooo

Valjean:
Oh,
just shut up and die already.

Fantine:
…'kay.

[She
dies. Enter Javert!]

The
Audience: He
might be an asshole, but at least he has impeccable timing.

Javert:
WHAT'S UP FUCKER

Valjean:
This really isn't a good time, Javert.

Javert:
IT'S
GO
TIME

Valjean:
I
have to adopt and raise a child first, but I promise you can
re-arrest me in ten years or so!

Javert:
You
have got
to be shitting me.

Valjean:
Nope,
sorry.

Javert:
Do you think I'm an idiot?

Valjean:
You
don't want me to answer that question, do you.

Javert:
I
WILL NEVER LET YOU GO BECAUSE YOU ARE A CRIMINAL AND I AM THE LAW AND
I MUST VANQUISH YOU WITH MY RIGHTEOUS FURY

Valjean:
GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY JAVERT

[Valjean
breaks the leg off of a chair and bonks Javert on the head. Javert
falls over and Valjean escapes.]

The
Audience: Well,
that was anticlimactic.

[The
scene changes to an inn in Montfermeil owned by the Thénardiers, the
wacky comic relief characters who are taking care of Cosette. And by
that, I mean “using Cosette as unpaid child labor.” She's
sweeping the floor and singing in a tremulous, waif-ish voice.]

Cosette:
Tra
la laaaa I like to dream about castles and clouds and ladies dressed
in whiiiiite

The
Audience: Weird
dreams must run in the family.

Cosette:
And in my cloud castle, no one is allowed to cry. Ever. Or
else.

The
Audience: You're
creepy. Didn't we see you in a Japanese horror movie or something?

Cosette:
OH
NO I HEAR MADAME THÉNARDIER COMING BACK AND I'M NOT DONE WITH MY
CHORES YET

[Mme.
Thénardier enters with her daughter, Éponine.]

Mme.
Thénardier: WHAT
THE FUCK COSETTE AREN'T YOU DONE YET

The
Audience: Child
labor. You get what you pay for.

Mme.
Thénardier: GO
INTO THE DARK SCARY WOODS AND GET SOME WATER FROM THE WELL

Cosette:
But I don't wannaaaaaaa

Mme.
Thénardier: WHY
ARE YOU SO STUPID AND AWFUL WHY CAN'T YOU BE PRETTY AND AWESOME LIKE
MY DAUGHTER